On the grave he sits and stares at me. Black eyes like an eternity. My messenger, my love, he sits and perches in his grace and caws to me in a beckoning display of sorrow. He misses me. Flies over my path as I walk, but will never let me get close to him. It is so forbidden. He takes to flight to tell me to prepare. In short I know he is here, watching me, waking me, hoping and praying for me; telling me to not be of the grave. “Do not be this” he caws, “do not lie here” he screams in desperate warning. He beckons to me but I cannot understand the meaning. I see the worry he carries upon his ruffled back; feathers in disarray. I know he loves me. He is always there and always will be. Someday I will return to him…someday he will take me home….but not today.